Impertinence
by Aperio
Summary: She still comes to my Labyrinth from time to time... Insupportable wench.


She still comes to my Labyrinth from time to time.

Oh, not often. I fancy she has too much sense to believe I would tolerate or ignore visits on a daily basis. Either that, or she honestly thinks I am blissfully ignorant of her constant contact with my insubordinate subjects. In that case, while equally ignorant of the occasional return to the Underground, I would run too great a chance of 'discovering' her should she come here too often. Perhaps I should be grateful she has _that_ high an opinion of my powers of observation.

Insupportable wench.

The truth of the matter is that I am not only well aware of each contact she has with my people, but careful to watch when such contact could be dangerous… to her. Such as when she returns to my land – beautiful in its own way, and a blessed teacher really – yet… dangerous in certain ways and certain places. My monitoring is not invasive, I was better brought up than that, yes, thankyou, _mother_. You may rest assured that Sarah's privacy is in no way violated.

I daresay that her privacy, her safety, tra-la-la would be the primary concern of any who realise I watch her even that much. Little doubt do I have that any creature she has met is not wrapped as tightly around her little finger as every one of my subjects. Heaven help us all, she unwittingly wrapped me 'round as far as I would go. And I am a reasonably tall person.

It amuses me to watch Hogswill's concern each time she visits him rather than vice versa. The quick sideways turns of the head to assure himself (unsuccessfully) that I am not watching, the hurrying motions he makes with his (shaking) hands, the evasion of any round object that resembles a crystal or a peach (such a guilty conscience!) in any way. My greatest amusement comes from his fervid avowals that he is just fine, he is not looking for anything and he is not at all worried about anything, thankyou very much.

Silly little Didymus instantly adds his encouragement to the effect that whatever it is that is capable of bothering his friend so badly need not do so – it will be instantly conquerable by himself. I must admit affection for that little twit. Were it not that he is determined to fight all, sundry and everything else all at the same time, I would be amused to have him closer to the castle than a mere bog guardian. However, there is little he can hurt from there, and less still that can hurt him.

Between Didymus' 'encouragement' and Hogsnit's instant denial that he is worried about anything at all, both expressed loudly and at the same time to the utter disregard of anything the other may say, I find the greatest intelligence in the beast Ludo.

If Hoggle was the one to sense me standing close by, merely watching; if Didymus was the one to race to 'His Lady's' side in protective stance; Ludo was the one to recognise that the being nearby posed no danger.

Ludo is always more uneasy with regards to the people of Sarah's own world than anything the Labyrinth may direct at the girl.

Stupidity? No. That complacency has taken time, several years even, to develop, yet he no longer worries that Sarah may find danger within the Labyrinth. Not when she lost them for hours on end within the outer maze, not when she fell unnoticed down one of the oubliettes (she has a fascination with those holes), not when she ran off after a pair of thieving spider-fairies into the dark fields.

I protected her.

Strange. I would never have picked Ludo as either that observant or sapient enough to put the two together.

What difference does it make, in the end? She loves my Labyrinth, my people, like no woman before her ever has. She returns again and again, not to return a misplaced dagger or to offload the cookies she accidentally baked too many of before they became stale, or for any number of the excuses she has invented, but merely because she wishes to.

Oh, Sarah.

My passionate, headstrong, imaginative, clever little Sarah.

As much as she loves these people, this land, it is as much and as carefully as she avoids their king.

I think I have died a little inside.

I shall take comfort yet, though. There is an argument brewing between my goblins that they are dying to take to her for adjudication. I shall enjoy fostering it. There are fairies thieving from her biscuit tin, brownies in her washing and a squabbling dwarf and fox attempting to run away with her scrabble while she isn't looking.

And some careless creature has left a peach lying on her pillow.

After all, she _does_ still come to my Labyrinth from time to time.

Impertinent woman.


End file.
